


Family Values

by gothjotun



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 16:58:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20439401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothjotun/pseuds/gothjotun
Summary: Rick and Morty comfort each other after they both have nightmares. Basically fluff and cute shit 🤠 I’m bad with descriptions lol





	Family Values

_ Woe to the worthless shepherd who leaves the flock! _

_ The sword shall be upon his arm _

_ And upon his right eye! _

_ His arm shall be clean dried up _

_ And his right eye shall be utterly darkened! _

_ Their cries, they call out to me. But just like the man on the pocket change sewn to my hip, it falls on dead, deaf ears. Greed keeps a person stagnant, not the other way around. You’d think they’d want more and more, to strive until their lungs collapse to get their prize with a foul breath that puffs deceitful words into a child’s ear. The little ones are easy to manipulate. But no, they stash what they don’t need until it rots, and everyone can see it but them. _

_ I’ve circled around crops I call my own. Manifested from rich soil and dirt, watered by tears, and crafted by my alter ego’s blood. The cotton I eat produces bugs that form within my belly that consume my inner walls, they keep me strong. The locust comes whether I value the weight of my own produce or not. _

_ I break both your legs, this is an easy fight. They’re brittle like a child’s hands and I’ve pulled the fingernails, stapling them against your spine. This is my legacy. This is my calling I’ve been putting off for far too long. This is God’s design. _

_ I have planted my foot within your chest, pressing down against your ribs. Your throat’s exposed, you may speak, but words come from within and I will seep them from your skin, bone by breaking bone. I’ve ripped your sternum from your chest, it’s left you gasping for breath and I carefully maneuver it inside of your mouth. _

_ You refuse to speak to me, so I take back your tongue. Punctured by the bone. Why won’t you speak to me, why must you scream at me? You talk in tongues and I’ve heard it within my own death rattle. And they all have the nerve to say that I’m the wolf in sheep’s clothing. _

_ You’re the prized fruit that rots. The dog that lies down and lets the rabbit walk over him. The decaying teeth inside my twisted jaw. What’s normal for me is terror to the hell spawns that are chronically beneath me. _

_ I am that I am. _

_ I am the horror, and this is what I’m remembered for. _

_ !! _

Rick sat up in his bed, his frame trembling as cold sweat spawned on the back of his neck. The old man’s inhales and exhales shuddered, Rick quickly glancing around the room for enemies.

He frantically fumbled for the light switch next to his bedside table, successfully illuminating his surroundings. Rick’s body betrayed him as his hands shook, the genius throwing off the covers he was under. 

Fuck.

Jesus fucking _ Christ._

Just…

Breathe.

He felt grief’s fingers wrap around his jugular, cold digits pressing, constricting. His throat felt dry, so Rick cleared it thoroughly, but it wasn’t enough. It was hard to keep up with his heart rate, it was difficult to think. He just...was frozen in apprehension. 

He carefully glanced around, noting that he was safe. No dead men. No dead family. Nothing but four walls covered in science posters. He was okay.

He was okay. 

But that didn’t heal the crippling fear that affected his limbs. Rick felt like he couldn’t move, it was impossible to form coherent thoughts but the only thing he comprehended was that he wanted his _ grandson_.

He needed to make sure he was alive. He needed to make sure he didn’t kill him.

The old man found himself stumbling out of bed, almost falling as his knobby knees threatened to give out. He shakily shuffled into the hallway, making a beeline towards Morty’s room.

_ “This is so stupid.” _

_ “What am I doing? He needs to sleep.” _

_ “I deprive him of rest too much.” _

_ “I’m so pathetic that I need comfort from my own fucking grandson.” _

_ …. _

_ …... _

_ “Just a peek to make sure he’s alright.” _

Rick slowly turned the knob, looking into Morty’s room. His breath stuttered as he saw the lamp light on, and heard quiet sobs emitting from the boy.

“R-Rick?” Morty hiccuped, quickly wiping his eyes with his hoodie sleeves.

A moment of silence.

The old man slowly opened the door properly, revealing himself. He cleared his throat nervously, fingers twitching.

“Morty...I...uh…”

“D-Did you have nightmares too?” The boy whispered, promptly covering his mouth with the wrist of his hoodie in embarrassment as his voice broke.

Rick solemnly nodded, looking down.

“I-I just came to make sure you...you were alright.”

_ “To make sure you were alive.” _

A muffled sob escaped Morty, the kid burying his face in his hands as he cried. 

“F-Fuck! Th-Th-This is so stupid a-a-and dumb! ‘M sorry you ha-have to see me like this.” He whimpered in shame. 

“Just- Just let me live this down. Pl-Please don’t make fun of me for this.”

Rick quietly made his way over to his grandson, wordless as he stood next to Morty.

Morty looked up, eyes wide and full of water as his delicate frame shook. His curly hair was absolutely a mess, his forehead wet with cold sweat as his nose and cheeks were dusted pink from crying. He looked so sad, it broke Rick’s heart to think that Morty felt he couldn’t express grief or fear around him.

“Morty...I would never...I could never make fun of you for having nightmares that come because of me.” He threaded his boney fingers through Morty’s wild hair. 

“I have them every night, too. And it scares me badly every time. It’s...don’t feel embarrassed.”

Morty had never seen his grandpa so tender and understanding before. He was absolutely sure that the other would have mocked him for his silly, irrational behavior. But he didn’t.

Huh.

Morty shuttered, feeling cold. He wrapped his arms around himself, whimpering quietly.

There was a period of silence, both of them were surreptitiously twitching, wanting the other. Morty wanted to be held, and Rick wanted to hold him. Badly.

“Fuck, I-” Morty’s breath hitched as he blinked rapidly. “H-Hold me. Hold me. Hold m-me. Pl-Please. Please. I need- I need you to hold me. I need- I need you. Please.” 

He held up his arms, bottom lip trembling as his face scrunched up in pain, the kid signaling Rick to come closer.

The old man complied with his request, crawling up next to his grandson as Morty immediately found his way into his lap, nuzzling Rick’s neck as he sobbed. Rick wrapped his arms tightly around the kid, this being the first time they had been so physically affectionate with one another. 

It was...a lot to take in.

“Chest...aches...s-so much.” Morty cried, a brittle hand clutching the front of his hoodie. “I can’t...breathe.”

“Hey, hey, i-i-it’s okay. In and out, count down with me.” Rick murmured, helping his grandson catch his breath. 

Morty tried his methods, and slowly, it started working. Rick rubbed soft circles on his back, quietly praising him for his good work. They focused on this for a while, Morty eventually ceasing his crying.

There was another period of silence, but it was comfortable.

“What-What was your dream about?” Morty questioned, looking up at Rick.

Rick inhaled deeply through his nose, thinking. There was a moment of silence before he spoke up.

“Family values.” 

Morty didn’t reply, he just closed his eyes and sighed softly. 

“What was your nightmare, Morty?”

“It...was about you. You just...abandoning me. Getting me killed a-and telling me I’m s-stupid.” 

Rick was speechless, thinking. He held his grandson impossibly closer to himself, finding his eyes misting over with tears.

“I’m…”

“Rick- dont. It’s..It’s okay.”

“No, no it’s not. H-How is that okay? I know I’m a shitty grandpa but I’d never, I could never leave you. I could never.”

“Promise?” Morty looked up at him with half lidded eyes, blinking slowly.

Rick nodded.

“I-I wanna hear you say it…”

“I promise. Okay? I promise.”

Morty made a tiny noise of contentment before yawning quietly. 

“Rick?” He squeaked through his yawn, rubbing his eyes.

“Hm?”

“Sleepy. ‘M really, sleepy.” Morty wrapped his frail arm around Rick. 

“But I’m too scared to sleep.”

“I’m here, you won’t have any more nightmares. You’ll be okay, cause I’m here.”

Morty nodded gently, nuzzling his head into Rick chest. The old man hesitated for a moment before he lifted Morty’s hand, the boy squinting up at him. He was about to open his mouth to speak, but Rick gently pressed his lips against his grandson’s knuckles, silencing whatever he was about to say.

“Oh.” Morty squeaked softly, nodding.

“Go to sleep.” Rick muttered, closing his eyes. 

“That was nice-”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

Rick couldn’t see it, but Morty was smiling from ear to ear. The kid closed his eyes, getting comfortable.

“I won’t go to sleep until I make sure you’re okay.”

“But-”

“You can’t change my mind.”

Morty huffed quietly, but he was too tired to put up a fight. Honestly, Rick was going to stay up the entire night to make sure his grandson didn’t have anymore nightmares. But the kid didn’t have to know that. 

Rick was quiet for a long time.

“Hey Morty? I..well, it’s just. It’s been a rough night for you, so I figured..you’d need some reassurance. Don’t let this get to your...your little head but. I love you.” The old man mumbled, grimacing.

He was met with silence, Rick furrowing his eyebrows as he looked down. He listened closely, hearing quiet puffs coming from his grandson, the genius sighing in relief. Thank god he didn’t hear that. He would never let him live it down.

Rick closed his eyes in contentment, exhaling deeply. He’d stay up until the sun rises, making sure his kid was alright.

And Morty dreamed. He dreamed of softness, delicate tenderness that Rick gave him. He dreamed of a universe given to him that loved him unconditionally, that catered to people much like himself. It wasn’t his world of one anymore. It was a world of heart. A world of compassion. 

Thanks be to God for the indescribable gift. 

**Author's Note:**

> hrn i actually don’t like this piece of work but! i figured i could share it anyways :] who doesn’t love hurt/comfort


End file.
